Everything's Okay
by YTFan
Summary: Destiel. High-School AU. "Um, yeah, so I guess I'll just see you in class later." Dean is all flustered; his cheeks have visibly become a few shades of red darker...He doesn't risk looking back at Castiel, but if he had, he would have seen the largest, brightest, and most genuine smile ever to grace Castiel's face. Story is better than summary.


_Author's Note : I originally wrote this as an assignment for my English class, but I decided to post it anyway. I might choose to continue it if I get enough feedback or it might just remain a drabble._

_I also apologize now for the characters being OOC._

_**Disclamer: I don't own any characters mentioned in this story. They are the sole property of Eric Kripke and The CW.**_

_**Artwork:**/art/Wrapped-Up-194814854?q=favby%3AYTFan%2F55448002&qo=44_

* * *

"It was the heat of the moment." The alarm clock went off, the song piercing Dean's eardrum. He rolls over pulling his arm out from underneath the thin comforter and reaches for the alarm clock, knocking it off the small nightstand in the process. When the clock hits the shag carpeting the volume increases significantly, Dean hears stirring in the bed across from his.

"Dammit," Dean exclaims under his breath jumping out of the too-soft motel bed, "I really hate that song." Dean reaches down picking up the clock and practically punches the off button silencing the Asia song. He grabs a pillow off his bed and chucks it at the sleeping figure across the room.

"Rise and shine, Sammy." Dean shouts at his younger brother. Sam replies with a stifled mumble into his pillow. Dean walks over to the bed and pulls the comforter and sheet off Sam in a well-practiced motion.

"Jerk." Sam groans at his brother as the cold, musty air of the motel room hits his exposed body.

"Bitch." Dean replies playfully with his usual response to their typical banter.

"But seriously, Sammy, get up; school starts today, remember?" Dean asks as he enters the incredibly small and dank bathroom, grabbing a change of clothes on the way. He switches on the light, which flickers before finally deciding to turn on completely. Dean removes his shirt, but before completely changing, he looks at his reflection in the dirty mirror. Dean never got any complaints about his looks and even he had to admit he was damn good looking. He has a lean, well-toned bronzed body, an impeccably sharp jaw line, which ascends up into cheekbones that are just as sharp, and short sandy brown hair; but his most noticeable feature would have to be his eyes, they are a gorgeous green that closely resemble the color of moss. Despite how pleasing his exterior is, Dean feels that the same is not reflected internally. He hates that he grew up with an almost absent father, he hates that because of this he has had to practically raise Sam, and he hates that it has made him hate himself. Dean turns away from the mirror now ashamed at what he sees. He is pulled back to reality by the sound of his brother's voice.

"Don't remind me." Sam sighs while getting out of bed sluggishly.

"Sorry, buddy, I know high school seems bad. But it will be all right. Plus you'll have your extremely awesome big brother with ya." Dean says as he pulls the fresh shirt over his head.

"Now get dressed." Sam takes his duffle out from under the foot of the bed and grabs his jeans and one of his signature button-up plaid shirts. He quickly changes and makes it into the tiny kitchenette just as Dean sets a bowl of cereal on the table.

"Eat. I'll be right back, okay." Dean states firmly as he hands Sam a spoon.

"Fine," Sam replies nonchalantly, sitting and reluctantly digging into the bowl of food that could easily be mistaken for pencil shavings. Dean smiles at his brother and walks out of the motel room. He reaches into his pocket producing his disposable flip-phone. He flips it open to find a message.

_Hey, Dean. I am gonna be about another month. Something came up. Don't try to contact me; I'll be getting a new number. Take care of Sammy. -Dad_

"Son of a —," Dean yells, violently closing his phone, "why does he always do this?" Dean questions aloud, knowing that he will never get an answer. Dean ducks his head back into the motel.

"Hey, Sam, I'm going to go for a ride real quick. I'll be back in time to get us to school." Dean shouts toward the kitchenette. Not waiting for a reply, Dean slams the door and hurries to his car. There she was, in all her glory, parked on the far side of the motel parking lot. The '67 Impala; she was beautiful; at least she was to Dean, and to his father as well seeing as the car used to belong to him. Now she was Dean's though, and he loved everything about her: her slick black exterior, her tattered leather interior, the worn rubber on the steering wheel that his grip cradles perfectly. He even loves her imperfections because each flaw held a memory: the melted army man in the ashtray that Sam left there so many years ago, the Legos, that Dean had dropped down the vent, that he could still hear rattling, and initials of him and Sam that they had crudely carved onto the dashboard. However, what Dean loved most about his baby was that he could always find comfort while driving her. He puts the key in the ignition and turns it; relishing the purr of the old engine. He leans across the front seat opens the glove compartment and produces his favorite cassette. Almost immediately after popping the tape in, Kansas comes blasting out of the speakers. Dean peels out of the parking lot and drives around until he has heard half the songs, finally calm after reading the message from his father.

Sam had just zipped up his book bag when Dean returns.

"Ready?" Dean asks lingering in the doorway.

"As I'll ever be; let's go." Sam replies dragging his feet all the way to the Impala.

* * *

Dean pulls into the school parking lot. "Sammy, go ahead in. You have your schedule right?"

"Yeah but—"

"Go on, I'm going to go see some friends before class. I'll meet up with you after first period."

"Okay." Sam says walking towards the main entrance. Dean walks around to the side of the school expecting to see Ash and Garth hanging by the bike racks. Well, he does see them but they aren't just hanging by the racks they are picking on that one kid who always wears a tan trench coat. Cas is his name Dean thinks. Cas' lanky body is no match for Ash and Garth, they aren't very large either but compared to Cas they were freaking body builders. He doesn't know why but Dean has the sudden urge to stop what was happening which is weird of him because he never cared about his friends bullying people before. Nevertheless, he rushes over and pushes Ash and Garth away.

"Back off, guys." Dean shouts at his friends.

"Whoa, man, what's wrong with you?" Garth questions skeptically.

"Nothing, just leave him alone, okay?"

"Dude, quit being such a pussy." Ash barks at Dean. In reply he gives Ash a look that would put Medusa to shame.

"Okay, man, we'll go. But you're acting really strange." Ash retorts glaring at Cas before he walks away pulling Garth along with him. Dean turns back to Cas; he's on the ground picking up the contents of his spilled backpack. Dean drops to his knees and starts gathering up loose pencils and pens.

"Sorry about my friends."

"Some friends." Cas scoffs. Dean is taken by surprise, even after having Cas in at least one of his classes since freshman year he has never heard him talk; and by the looks of him you would never have thought Cas' voice would be so raspy.

"Yeah, well, they're all I got so I put up with their bullshit. That doesn't give them an excuse to pick on you though, Cas.

"Castiel."

"What?"

"My full name is Castiel, it means—" Castiel begins to explain.

"I'll just stick with Cas." Dean cuts him off. Dean goes to hand Castiel the large bunch of writing utensils he has gathered and as Castiel reaches for it their fingers graze resulting in a shock. Instead of pulling away, Dean has the need to look up from their hands and at Castiel. When he does, he's caught off guard because the smaller boy is already staring at him with a slight tilt in his head and a confused brow.

_Does he always stare this intensely at people? Wow, his eyes are like really blue aren't they_? Dean is surprised by his sudden realization and quickly shakes off the thought. Castiel's deep blue eyes continue to look into Dean's mossy ones for what feels like forever but in reality is only about ten seconds. The intensity of Castiel's gaze makes it appear as if he is seeing directly into Dean's soul. Dean hesitantly breaks their eye contact and releases the pens and pencils.

"Uh, sorry." Dean jumps to his feet.

"It's all right." Castiel rises, centering his askew trench coat back on his shoulders and reestablishing their previous eye contact.

"Um, yeah, so I guess I'll just see you in class later." Dean is all flustered; his cheeks have visibly become a few shades of red darker. He begins to back up toward the school's entrance but forgets to stop looking at Castiel therefore, he doesn't notice the long row of bikes behind him until it is too late. The back of his legs hit the first bike knocking it over creating a domino effect with the remaining bikes. If it was possible, Dean's face turns even redder. He doesn't risk looking back at Castiel, but if he had, he would have seen the largest, brightest, and most genuine smile ever to grace Castiel's face. Dean quickly runs into the school slamming the doors behind him and sinking to the floor.

"Idiot." Dean scolds himself, hitting his palm against his forehead before dropping his face down into his hands.

* * *

After first period, Dean meets up with Sam to see how his first class went.

"So how'd it go?" Dean clamps a strong hand onto Sam's thin shoulder.

"As expected, I was bored as hell." Sam shakes his brown hair that desperately needs a trim out of his eyes.

"Well, that's because you are too smart for your own good. Did you sass the teacher at all?

"Um, maybe, just a little." Sam replies unsure of which answer Dean wants to hear.

"Now, that's the little brother I know and love." Dean chuckles. They part ways when they reach Sam's second period class.

"I'll see ya after school, Sammy." Dean nods goodbye to his brother.

* * *

When the last period bell rings Dean rushes out of class in a hurry to get out of the hell they call school and to his baby. He just wants to take a long drive to wind down from the stressful day and to clear his head of thoughts about his Dad and surprisingly Castiel. He knows Sam won't mind if he drops him off at the motel; Sam would be more than happy to sit next to the window for hours reading. As he is walking out to the lot, he spots Castiel standing in front of his bike just staring down at it with the same head tilt he gave Dean earlier. Dean was conflicted between the want to just ignore Castiel and get to his car as quickly as possible and the feeling that he should see if Castiel is alright. The latter overcome the former and Dean shifted his direction towards Castiel. Dean clears his throat in an attempt to get Castiel's attention, but the dark-haired boy's gaze remains glued to the bike.

"Cas, um, is everything, uh, are you alright?" Dean sputters out the question not fully sure how to address Castiel's strange behavior.

"I'm fine, but it appears as though someone has slashed both of my bike's tires." Cas gives a sidelong glance at Dean. He fixes his gaze back onto the bike once more, but merely for a moment. He suddenly turns and begins walking away. The abrupt movement startles Dean and he jumps slightly before turning to see where Castiel was heading.

"Whoa, whoa, hold up. Where are you going?" Dean jogs, quickly catching up to Castiel.

"Home."

"Oh, well, how far away do you live?"

"Three miles." Castiel shrugs, answering nonchalantly.

"Dude, you aren't going to walk three miles in this heat especially since you never take that damn coat off." Dean states gesturing to the coat that loosely hangs around Castiel's frame. Castiel looks slightly offended, but shrugs it off because he knows Dean means well.

"Well, that is currently the only presented option. Seeing how my former mode of transportation has been rendered useless, I substitute another. Therefore I shall walk home." Cas replies continuing forward.

"Let me give you a ride. My car is parked right over there." Dean looks back over his shoulder at his baby; Sam is already there awkwardly kicking at the pavement, tripping over his feet while doing so, representing the perfect humanized moose. Castiel glances around Dean seeing Sam; he gives him a small half smile.

"Very well, I greatly appreciate it." Castiel looks back at Dean giving him the same smile that he had missed that morning. Dean grins back, blushing slightly at the emotion in Castiel's eyes but what emotion he's not sure. Dean turns to walk over to the Impala and as he does so, he notices Castiel's shoulder brushing against his the whole way back to the car.

_This guy really has no sense of personal space, does he?_ Dean thinks, but doesn't pull away from the contact. As they approach the car Dean can see the look of confusion on Sam's face. Dean knows what he's thinking: 'why is Dean socializing with anyone other than Ash and Garth?'

"Hey, Sammy, uh, this is Cas. I'm gonna give him a ride home, okay? Dean tells Sam nodding towards Castiel.

"I prefer Castiel, thank you." Castiel extends his hand toward Sam.

"Well, I prefer Sam, nice to meet you Castiel." Sam grabs Castiel's hand and gives it a firm shake. Sam smiles at Castiel, he thinks that he might be good for Dean; he would definitely be a better influence than Ash and Garth. Sam climbs into the backseat of the car leaving the passenger side open for Castiel. Dean walks around the car and gets into the driver seat. Castiel just remains standing, subtly rocking on the balls of his feet not sure what to do.

"Uh, Dean." Sam gets his brother's attention looking out the window at Castiel.

"What?" Dean now notices Castiel just standing awkwardly outside of the car.

"He's a little odd, isn't he?" Sam chuckles.

"Yeah, well, who isn't?" Dean retorts almost defensively.

"You comin'?" Dean asks out the open passenger door.

"Yes," Castiel steps into the Impala, "I apologize; I was in the middle of contemplating a dilemma I am having." Dean smirks at Castiel's strange response; he finds Castiel's social unawareness to be very endearing and refreshing. He looks back at Sam in the rearview mirror and sees that he is giving him a knowing look. Dean starts the car trying to dissolve the newly found tension that fills the car. He pulls out of the parking lot heading toward the motel to drop off Sam first; even though the motel is in the opposite direction of where Castiel was headed earlier, he wants to spend some time with Castiel for a little while despite his earlier desire to be alone. Unfortunately, once Sam is dropped off the tension in the car increases tenfold.

"So where to Cas?" Dean asks, drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

"Would it be acceptable with you if we just sat here for a little while?" Castiel is shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his coat making a ruffling sound against the leather of the seat.

"Um…sure, man. Can I ask why though?"

"I have a distinct feeling that you desire to speak with me about something, but you are too nervous to broach the subject." Castiel turns in his seat so that he is completely facing Dean.

Dean turns his head away, looking out the front window, and pulls his hands into his lap. The air in the car remains silent for another moment, sans the subtle breathing of the two boys. Suddenly both teens break the silence simultaneously.

"Look, man."

"Dean, I wish you to know that...," Castiel quickly stops himself, "you first."

"Okay, well… you know how they say it's easier to tell things to people you don't know." Dean slowing opens up and turns towards Castiel slightly.

"Of course, because you won't feel any judgment from a stranger while you would…"

"Yeah, exactly." Dean cuts him off worried that if he doesn't say what he wants to now then he might never. "I know you don't need to hear about my issues, but I just need to open up to someone for once; and I feel like you might understand. Anyway, here goes nothing. So, my dad he travels a lot for his job. Sammy and I rarely get to see him, actually we rarely hear from him at all." Dean blurts out all in one breath.

"And you miss him." Castiel states whether than asks.

"No, actually just the opposite, I never want to see him ever again. You don't get it. He started leaving when I was ten. Sure, he would always leave enough money for Sammy and me to get by until he got back a few months later. Then as I got older, his returns got less frequent. As of now, I haven't seen the guy in two years. Sammy hasn't seen him in three. He keeps sending money and texts saying he will be around soon, but I never believe him anymore. I have accepted the fact that I might never see him again, but I'm worried that Sam never will. I mean, he barely knew him, I practically raised the kid; and now he probably won't ever know his real father. It's just not fair." Dean begins to choke up, his eyes have been watering, and now tears are steadily streaming down his face.

"Dean…" Castiel begins but he is suddenly at a loss for words. He desperately wants to comfort this broken boy but has no clue how to do so. All his life he has never been comforted, even when he needed it, so he does not know the proper protocol. He has observed others being comforted though, and it seems that in all those cases physical contact was appropriate. Castiel adjusts his body into a better position to access Dean. He leans forward placing one hand over Dean's that is currently sitting on the seat between the two of them, and another on the side of Dean's face turning it to face his own. Castiel cautiously leans in barely brushing his lips against Dean's. The kiss is careful, loving almost. Dean's eyes widen in shock at Castiel's actions but he doesn't pull away. After a moment, Dean leans into the kiss deepening it. He moves his free hand up to grip at the lapel of Castiel's trench coat almost as if it is his lifeline. The kiss dissolves in a second and both boys pull away reluctantly. Dean still has a tight grip on Castiel. Dean rests his forehead against Castiel's, breathing in a contented sigh of relief.

"Thank you," Dean breaths against Castiel, "thank you for just listening and not telling me that everything will be okay."

"You're welcome, Dean." Castiel whispers. "But, Dean, everything will be okay." Dean smiles, the largest smile he has had in years, and lets out a small chuckle and places a small peck on Castiel's lips.

"Now it will be."

Now Dean is certain that his baby is definitely his favorite place to be.


End file.
